


Sunflower

by HeartSabers



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo Has One Brain Cell, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Ben Solo, Pining, Prompt Fill, Requited Unrequited Love, Smut, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartSabers/pseuds/HeartSabers
Summary: One-shot inspired by @reylo_promptsPrompt: "Ben overhears his friend Rey talking about how hot Solo is. He assumes she's talking about his father."
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 71
Kudos: 1138
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts), The translations





	Sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> Me: That's it, I'm done, I'm deleting my entire AO3 account, goodbye cruel world. 
> 
> Also me: Oh, look, a prompt! 
> 
> Ugh. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> PS.: Title inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tMAbBNXreJs).

Ben was ready to admit this wasn’t the worst weekend he’d ever had.

Well, not yet. It would _definitely_ get worse. In a couple days, when the rest of the guests were here; when the ranch was brimming with has-been eighties celebrities; when people were telling Ben stories he’d heard a billion times before and still expecting him to laugh – _then_ it would be the very epicenter of hell.

A colder version of hell, maybe. With more wine. Less pitchforks. Still hell.

But _this_ – this wasn’t horrible, he thought as he let some sauce drip onto the back of his hand and hurried to lick it off.

The ‘early committee’, as his mother liked to call it, had no has-been eighties celebrities in it, for starters. Unless you counted uncle Lando and uncle Chewie, of course, but it seemed unfair to throw them in the same category as, say, Figrin D’an. For the most part, it was just old friends and close family – the people his dad made a point of spending extra time with on his birthday. People Ben actually knew – people he could talk to without wanting to lock himself in a room and scream into a pillow.

And, of course, there was also Rey.

There was Rey in goofy sweaters, laughing and prancing around the house; Rey smiling brightly as she called him to go see the horses; Rey squealing in glee when she beat everyone at Monopoly, which was... Yeah, not hell.

What was the opposite of that?

“Smells good.” 

And, of course, there was also Rey sneaking up on him when he wasn’t paying attention, making his heart skip a beat or two at the sound of her voice.

When Ben raised his eyes from the specks of ground nutmeg floating on the thick, white sauce, he found her leaning over the marble island, propped on her elbows, kilowatt smile on her wine-stained lips.

Yeah, definitely not hell.

“Wanna taste?

“Is it poisoned?”

She was starting to slur her words. It was almost imperceptible, so much so that he doubted anyone would even notice it. He envied those people sometimes – the ones that hadn’t memorized every minute detail about the way she talked, or looked, or smelled. Glancing at the empty wine glass in her hands, Ben smirked, setting the nutmeg and the grater down next to the cooktop. 

“What do you think?”

“Figrin D’an isn’t even here yet, so I wanna say… no?”

She did that, sometimes – hold her bottom lip between her teeth to bite back a smile when she made him laugh, as if she were savoring a small victory. It never failed to make his blood rush towards parts of his body that _definitely_ didn’t need any extra blood in them. Not in the middle of the kitchen, when he was trying to keep his béchamel from going lumpy.

“No, not this batch,” he said, stirring the sauce vigorously as he smiled at her. “But I wouldn’t touch the potato salad at the party if I were you.”

“Noted,” she said with a grin, setting the empty glass down before she started to make her way around the kitchen island. “So, can I try it?”

“Careful, it’s hot.” He took her hand as he said that, tapping some excess sauce off the wooden spoon on the rim of the pan before he let a few drops fall onto her skin.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Rey chanted, frowning as she hurried to lick it off.

Pointedly _not_ letting any mental images involving her wine-stained tongue barge into his head, Ben averted his eyes quickly, turning his attention back to the sauce. It was probably for the best, because it meant he wasn’t looking at her face when she moaned.

Out loud.

“Fuck, Ben, it’s… _fuck_.” 

And there she was, still moaning. Ben cleared his throat and tried to coax his lips into a smile.

“Good?”

“You’re a wizard.”

When he looked back at her, she was sucking on the back of her hand, looking up at him through those damned fanned out eyelashes of hers.

“Needs a little more pepper, I think,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s perfect. Don’t you _dare_ talk shit about it.”

This was probably the reason why he always accepted his father’s invitation to be part of the early committee. Well, why he _had_ accepted it for the past five years, that is. He couldn’t bring himself to say no, because being here meant spending three extra days watching Rey prance around the house in her lame pajamas, smiling and laughing and maybe a tiny bit tipsy, ruining any cooking she tried to help with and still making him feel like the teenage boy who’d fallen hopelessly in love with her.

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll cut you,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes before she gave the back of her hand a final lick.

Reaching for the pepper mill, Ben laughed and shook his head.

“Did you come here just to threaten me?”

“Nope,” she chirped, pulling herself up and sitting down on the marble counter, a couple feet away from him. “I’m the designated wine-fetcher.”

“Sounds important.”

“It is,” she agreed solemnly. “Just ask Rose.”

“There’s a bottle left,” Ben said, jerking his head towards the fridge. “And I can get some more down in the cellar when I’m done here. If you promise not to tell anyone about the potato salad.”

“Scout’s honor,” she said, raising her hand in the air with a bright smile on her lips.

Huffing out a laugh, Ben stretched towards the fridge and opened it without leaving his post by the stove. He grunted as he tried to reach the bottle, but eventually succeeded. Standing back up, he set it down next to her.

“There. Go save the day.”

Rey didn’t answer, but instead kept her eyes fixed on his sweater for whatever reason.

“Rey?”

“Hi, yeah, sorry. Yeah. Hi,” she stammered, swallowing as she raised her eyes to his face. She didn’t move, though. “How’s the… doing? I mean, the writing. Book. Are you writing another book?”

She’d probably drunk past the point of tipsiness after all, Ben thought with a fond smile. Good. Maybe he’d get to see her singing Céline Dion on the karaoke after dinner.

“Working on it, yeah,” he answered, grinding black pepper onto the sauce. “Holdo wants a spring launch, but I don’t know if I’ll be done by March. We’ll see.”

“I really liked the last one,” she said, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I did a semantic analysis of Sunflower with my seniors for contemporary poetry week. It’s beautiful.”

Ben swallowed thickly, eyes fixed on the swirling béchamel in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s… thank you. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Rey said with one of _those_ smiles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She grunted as she hopped down to the floor, grabbing the bottle of wine. “The girls await the booze.”

“Tell them dinner’s almost ready.”

“I will.” She smiled as she bent over the counter to grab her empty glass. “And I’ll tell them it’s shit so I can eat it all by myself.”

A warm chuckle shook Ben’s shoulders as he tried the sauce again, finally happy with the flavor on his tongue. He didn’t look up when Rey started to make her way back to the sunroom, but he did when she called his name.

“Ben?”

“Hm?”

She was standing there, halfway between the kitchen and the living room, empty glass in one hand and chilled bottle of wine in the other. Framed by the emerald green of the grassy fields outside the window, she looked like a painting.

“I missed you.”

Ben cocked his head, wiping his hand on the tea towel draped over his shoulder.

“We talk all the time.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, eyes darting towards her feet for a split second. “Yeah, I know, I mean… seeing you in person. I miss… I miss that. You know?”

He did know, so he nodded, shooting her a side smile.

“I missed you, too.”

With one last smile and a nod, Rey lowered her head, moving towards the sunroom in quick steps.

Ben would have thought she’d taken his heart with her, hadn’t it been beating painfully in his chest, threatening to crack a rib or two. Shaking his head, he turned off the burner and put the lid back on the casserole, peeking into another pan to check if the water had come to a boil.

“That smells good.”

On raising his eyes, Ben found his mother standing a few feet away with a wide smile on her lips.

“Mom,” he said, setting the tea towel down on the marble counter. “Sauce is done, I was going to throw the pasta in there. Could you do that for me? I told Rey I’d get some wine down in the cellar.”

“Well, if you told _Rey_ ,” his mother said with an amused glint in her eyes. “You better hurry.”

“Yeah, they’re going through those bottles like there’s no tomorrow,” Ben chuckled, leaning down to plant a loud peck on his mother’s cheek as he walked past her.

“Not what I meant, honey,” Leia said, patting his cheek lovingly. “But go, go!”

At twenty-nine, Ben knew better than to entertain his mother’s riddles, so he just sighed and started to make his way to the cellar. 

The old wood creaked under his weight as he climbed down the narrow stairs, leaning down to avoid banging his head against any wooden beams – a lesson learned through pain and misery over the course of many years. When his feet finally hit humid stone, Ben felt for the light switch in the dark, blinking a few times when the warm light of a single dangling lamp flooded the room. Trying not to think about the fact that his father had more than enough money to build himself a _decent_ wine cellar, he walked to one of the racks, starting to scan the dusty labels in search of something Rey would like.

She always gravitated towards the South American ones. He didn’t expect Han to have the specific Viña Carmen she loved lying around, but maybe something Argentinian? Some Terrazas, or maybe…

“Aha,” he breathed as his eyes found the tell-tale label of a vintage Catena Zapata. He was reaching for the bottle when the unmistakable sound of her voice made him stop.

“Rose, stop! I’m not doing anything about it, okay?”

Yes. Muffled, but undeniably her voice.

Ben looked up to find the dusty wooden ceiling of the cellar illuminated by the faint light of the ancient light bulb. For a moment, he’d forgotten the sunroom was right above his head.

“Rey, _please_ ,” Rose whined, and Ben could hear her set her glass down dramatically. “No one can stand it anymore! You literally have _choke me, daddy_ written across your forehead!”

“I don’t think you know what literally means.”

“Yes, I do. You _literally_ want to climb him like a tree. See?”

Ben shouldn’t be listening to this. He knew he shouldn’t, but it felt just like a gruesome car crash he couldn’t bring himself to look away from. Well, it probably felt like a car crash in more ways than one. It definitely made him want to throw up.

“What are we talking about? Oh, more wine!” It was Kaydel’s voice, followed by the sound of the glass door closing.

“What took you so long?”

“A girl’s gotta pee.”

“Well, sit down. We’re discussing vital matters. Like Rey wanting to smother Solo with her thighs.”

“ _Rose!_ ” Rey cried, lowering her voice down to an almost inaudible whisper. “Shut the fuck up.”

“It’s not like people don’t know, Rey,” Kaydel huffed as she plopped down on a particularly creaky armchair. “You’re painfully obvious. Why don’t you do everyone a favor and fuck it out of your system?”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Rose agreed.

And Ben – Ben should probably look down, because throwing up with his neck craned like that sounded like a very, _very_ bad idea, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. Damn, he could barely breathe.

His father. Rey wanted to fuck _his father_.

“Can you two just not? He doesn’t want me, okay? I’ll always be _little Rey_ to him. Bruised knees, terrible bangs, My Little Pony pajamas little Rey.”

“Rey, for the love of –”

“Rose, drop it,” she pleaded, setting her glass down with a little more force than strictly necessary. “Please? It’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m _no one_ , Rose! I’m _nothing_ ,” Rey said, and Ben was almost sure he could hear tears in her voice. “He could have any woman he wants – fuck, he probably _does_ – and I’m not one of them. I’m a school teacher. A _school teacher_ , and he’s… he’s…” Her voice was barely louder than a teary whisper when she finished the sentence. “He’s _him_.”

 _Him_.

Eighties movie star, smooth-talking heartthrob _him_. Forty-something years her senior _him_.

It made bile rise to Ben’s throat.

“You don’t want to get your heart broken,” Rose said in a stunned whisper, as if she’d just figured out the meaning of life. “You… fuck, Rey, you…”

“You have _feelings_ for him. Like, actual feelings,” Kaydel completed in the same awed tone. Ben heard Rey shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Shut up.”

“Rey, let’s –”

“No,” Rey spat angrily, tears clearly straining her voice. “No, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can we… can we just…”

Finally, Ben couldn’t bring himself to look at the car crash anymore. His knuckles were white around the bottleneck of the vintage wine, but he could barely remember he was still holding it as he stomped through the echoey cellar and darted up the wooden stairs, causing small clouds of dust to lift around his feet.

His legs dragged him to the living room mechanically, probably planning on taking him to his bedroom and making him stay there for the rest of the night. The weekend. Forever. However long it took for this cold, hopeless squeeze in his chest to go away.

Yeah, probably forever.

Pressing his lips together, he was starting to make his way to the staircase when he heard someone call his name.

“Ben! Ah, good, there you are. One down,” Han said, approaching his son with one of his trademark crooked smiles. “Dinner’s ready. Your mother asked me to call the girls. Oi, _girls_!” he yelled, waving his arms as he tried to catch Rose’s eye through the glass door. “Dinner!”

He seemed to succeed, because a moment later the sunroom door creaked open.

Ben _tried_ not to look at Rey, he really did, but his eyes seemed to dart towards her of their own accord, only to find her wiping a tear from her cheek.

He looked away immediately.

“Great, c’mon, let’s go! Ben’s sauce is smelling good,” Han said cheerfully as the girls approached him with awkward smiles. To his credit, he seemed to notice something was off, because he furrowed his brow as he looked at them. “Y’all okay?”

“Yeah,” Rose rushed to say, clearly trying to make her smile look more convincing. “Yeah, Rey’s hungry though. You know how she gets.”

“Oh, no, not hungry monster,” Han huffed fondly, pulling Rey into a side hug. When he pressed a kiss to her hair, Ben could actually feel his stomach twist into a knot. “Let’s get some food in you.”

“Love you, Grump,” Rey murmured. Resting her head on Han’s shoulder, she wrapped her arms around him, smiling softly.

And that was Ben’s breaking point.

“I’m not feeling well,” he rasped, trying to blink back tears. “I’ll just… just…”

When he pointed upstairs, he realized he was still holding a bottle of wine, so he shoved it in Kaydel’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” Rey’s eyes widened when she heard him, and she untangled herself from Han’s embrace slowly, inching closer to Ben. “Are the migraines back? Do you want me to –”

“No,” Ben spat, and it came out louder than he’d anticipated. Sharper. Colder, even. “No, Rey, you stay and have fun.”

He didn’t look back as he stomped his way upstairs, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists.

* * *

Ben’s eyes were fixed on the bright screen in front of him. His fingers were hovering above the keyboard, and there were definitely words scattered across the document he’d created hours before, but he had no recollection of having written them.

Not that it mattered. They were probably just a string of angry, tacky similes woven into cheap imagery he’d delete as soon as he read it.

Sighing heavily, he buried his face in his palms, massaging his eyes with the balls of his hands. That’s when he heard the knock on the trap door.

“Come in.” His voice sounded raspy, as if he hadn’t used it in years, so he cleared his throat before he looked over his shoulder.

Behind him, Rey’s head emerged from the floor with a tentative smile.

“Thought you’d be here.”

Without saying a word, Ben turned back around, only marginally aware of the fact that his fingers were trembling over the keyboard.

“Feeling better?”

Again, he just remained silent, eyes fixed on the undecipherable inky black symbols sprawled across blueish white.

“Should you be working through a migraine?”

“I don’t have a migraine,” he grated, finally closing the laptop and setting it aside. He didn’t know what he’d written, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t want her to see it. “Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Right.” Her voice was soft and low, with no traces of tipsiness. Maybe they hadn’t opened the Zapata, after all. Her lips were still stained purple, though. He tried not to think about them. “And should you be working when you’re tired instead of… you know? Resting?”

She wasn’t wearing shoes, so he didn’t hear her footsteps, but she was now standing next to the couch, looking intently at him. In his peripheral vision, he could tell she was hugging herself, but he kept his eyes glued to the crackling fireplace in front of him for another moment.

“As good a time as any,” he finally said.

“Ben?”

“What?”

“Will you look at me?”

When Ben turned his head to meet her gaze, he found her gnawing at her lower lip, glistening eyes trained on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Ben –“

“I said _nothing_ , Rey. Can you leave me alone?”

He didn’t mean to say it that harshly, but his words still cut through the log-scented warmth of the attic like a gust of icy wind. They made Rey shiver.

“Why are you acting like this?” she murmured, her face only partially illuminated by the flickering flames.

“Like what?” It was a challenge, more so than a question.

He should have known better. Rey had never been one to shy away from challenges.

“Like you did back then,” she replied, swallowing thickly, arms still wrapped around her middle. “When Snoke was your publisher. When you signed as Kylo Ren.”

Ben stared at her in silence for a long moment, until he couldn’t stand the pity in her eyes anymore.

“You done with the trip down memory lane? ‘Cause I have a tight deadline and I really should be –”

“Talk to me, Ben,” she pleaded, and he could see a tear trickling down her cheek, tinged amber by the crackling fire. “ _Please_. Please, don’t –”

“I overheard you earlier.” He didn’t mean to say it, but the words just spurted out, unbidden, before he could swallow them back. “Talking to the girls.” 

Rey just stared at him with confusion in her eyes, a deep rift forming between her brows. Her lips parted softly as she processed his words, and he could tell the exact moment when they sank in, because she sucked in a sharp breath. Bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, she just looked at him in silence, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“Oh my God,” she finally murmured, her voice little more than an exhale. “ _Oh my God_.”

“It’s okay,” he lied, clenching his jaw. “It’s none of my business. But I think you’ll agree it’s… Weird.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rey whispered, sucking in another ragged breath. “Ben, I’m so sorry, I –”

“I said it’s _fine_ ,” he repeated coldly. “I’m just… uncomfortable. That’s all.”

“I know,” she said, letting her hands fall to her sides with a teary sigh. When she shook her head, more fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. “I knew you’d feel that way, that’s why… shit, Ben, I’m so sorry.”

“May I just ask you not to…” he trailed off, trying to blink back tears. “Not to act on it? I mean, your kinks are your own, but…”

“Of course,” she sniffled, nodding vehemently. “Of course, I’d never… I wouldn’t… Not when…”

A dry sob escaped her chest, and Ben would have given _anything_ to be able to wrap his arms around her and let her cry into his chest, like she’d done so many times over the years. He couldn’t bring himself to move, though. Not with this dull, poisonous ache spreading through every inch of his body.

“Good,” was all he managed to squeeze out through the tightness in his throat. “I… I can see why you’d feel that way. And I… I know it’s harmless, as long as it’s a fantasy, but _fuck_ Rey. _My mom_. She loves you like a daughter.”

“Your,” Rey sniffed, knitting her brows together. “Your mom?”

“You know, his wife?”

“Whose wife?”

“ _Rey,_ ” Ben huffed, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “C’mon!”

Rey just looked at him as if he’d grown a second head for a long moment, head cocked in confusion, until her jaw went slack with shock.

“Ben, you...” she stammered, glistening eyes comically wide. “You… Ben did you…” Shaking her head, she squeezed her eyes shut with a disgusted grimace. “Did you think I was talking about your _dad_?”

“Are there any other Solos in this house?”

Ben’s voice sounded strained and frustrated, and the words earned him a long stare from Rey. The very same stare she’d use whenever he failed to see something that was painfully obvious, which admittedly wasn’t exactly _rare_ , but –

“Oh,” he mouthed, feeling his jaw go slack. “Were you… was it…”

But it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, because that would mean…

“I’m sorry,” Rey whispered with an embarrassed shrug. “I know it’s… I know you don’t… It’s just that you look like _that_ and I… I have…” She gestured vaguely towards him, wincing. “Eyes. I have eyes. Two of them. But I promise that… _God_ , what am I saying, I –”

Rey was so invested in trying to finish a sentence she didn’t notice it when Ben sprang to his feet. To be quite honest, neither did he.

The first thought that crossed his mind when his tongue slid against hers was that she tasted like Merlot. A complex, fruity Merlot with a hint of wood and just enough sweetness to keep him sipping on it, desperate to keep the taste in his mouth.

She gasped against his lips, probably just as shocked as he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Weaving his fingers through her hair, he pulled her head to his, sucking on her lips as if he’d die if he didn’t drink every last drop.

“Sunflower’s about you,” he panted against her mouth. Hooking two fingers through the belt loop of her jeans, he yanked her hips to his, chest heaving. “Every fucking love poem I’ve ever written is about you.”

And looking down at her like this, with his fingers in her hair, tilting her head up, it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t have shoved his tongue down her throat like that; that maybe she’d just been tipsy when she said those things and that she didn’t _really_ want to smother him with –

His thoughts were cut short by her lips crashing against his, fruity and desperate, and by her tongue invading his mouth, eager and searching for his. She sighed as she fisted her hands into his sweater, pulling him closer, her delicate fingers scraping his skin and making him moan.

Ben lost track of time as they kissed. They may have spent years tasting each other; clawing at each other’s clothes and sighing into each other’s mouths; murmuring each other’s names each time they gasped for air. It was worth every second, though. When he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers, he was pretty sure he’d been able to add her taste to the collection of things he’d memorized.

He still had things to learn about her, though.

“ _Rey_.”

Reclaiming her lips, Ben kneaded at her hips for a moment before he slid his right hand under her sweater and her tank top. He reveled in the warmth of her skin under his fingertips, trying to memorize every inch of her body on his way up to her breast. It fit perfectly in his palm, just like he’d always dreamed it would, so he _squeezed_ , unable to control this urge to make every inch of her his own.

Rey didn’t seem to mind it, if the way she moaned into his mouth was any indication. Arching her back, she looped one of her arms around his neck and nibbled on his lower lip, clutching desperately at his sweater.

“You’re hard,” she panted, pressing her hips to his. “Fuck, you’re –”

Ben should have been embarrassed by the growl that escaped his chest, but he had more urgent matters at hand, namely clawing at her breast like a caveman.

“I get hard just thinking about you,” he grunted, sucking on her lip. “Literally just thinking about.... _Fuck_.”

He gasped when Rey cupped his erection, stroking it tentatively through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“About what?”

Panting heavily, Ben broke the kiss to look down at her. He was probably going to ask her something, but, when she squeezed his throbbing cock, his mind went blank. With another growl, he brought both hands down to her hips and buried his face into the crook of her neck, sucking and nibbling sloppily as he started to unbutton her jeans. 

“Are you clean?” she asked, tugging at his hair. It made Ben growl again.

“I haven’t had sex in years,” he whispered into her skin as he took a few steps back, pulling her with him.

“You _what_?”

“I want you.” It was almost a whimper. _Almost_. “Just you. I want you so bad. Shit, Rey, just let me…”

Ben only realized he’d knelt down when his knees met the soft rug in front of the fireplace. He wouldn’t have been able to tell why he’d done it – people didn’t _literally_ beg on their knees, he supposed. Then again, maybe begging hadn’t been his body’s intention. Maybe he’d just done it so he could cup her ass while he tugged her pants down her legs. Maybe he’d just wanted to let his mouth explore that narrow patch of skin right under her bellybutton – the one their making out had left exposed. Maybe he’d just wanted to wrap his arms around her thighs as she stepped out of her jeans, so he could pull her flush to his body and feast on her lower abdomen.

Maybe. Who knew.

All he knew was that she felt like a dream writhing inside the cage of his arms as he licked and nibbled her skin; panting and gasping when he pulled her thong to the side; moaning when he slid two fingers through her folds.

“Ben. Fuck, _Ben_.”

“You’re perfect. _Perfect_ ,” he rasped against her belly, giving her navel a long, lavish lick before he buried his face between her thighs.

She tasted divine there, too. She sounded even more divine when she cried out his name, fingers tugging at his hair, nails scraping his scalp as she parted her legs to grant him access.

It wasn’t a very comfortable position. Ben was probably too tall for it. He didn’t mind the discomfort at all, of course, but he _did_ mind not being able to eat her out properly, so he started to sit back.

Pulling her by the waist, he coaxed her to follow him until he was lying on his back with her thighs on either side of his head.

In some obscure, forgotten recess of his brain, Ben _knew_ there was a proper way to do this. Something about controlled pressure. Progressive clitoral stimulation. Carefully calculated tongue movements. He’d probably read something about it while waiting for a random dental appointment eons ago, but there was no chance he’d remember it now.

Not when Rey was moaning and grinding against his mouth, drenched with so much wetness the lower portion of his face was completely coated in it. Not when her skin felt so warm and soft as he kneaded at her bare ass, pulling her hips down to his face so he could drag his tongue hungrily through her slit. Not when he opened his eyes to find her hands buried under her sweater, clearly playing with her pebbled nipples, leaving a big chunk of her toned abs exposed.

If he was being honest with himself, Ben could only remember his own name because she kept saying it over and over again, louder and louder with each flick of his tongue to her clit.

Squeezing her ass one last time, Ben let his hand travel up her groin until his fingers found the wetness between her legs. Her walls clenched around him as he pushed his middle finger inside her, but he didn’t meet any resistance – just wetness, warmth, and a glorious throbbing that told him she was feeling good. It made his cock twitch painfully.

“There – right there, just like – _Fuck_!”

Ben could feel her legs quivering when he trapped her clit between his lips, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he went harder, licking and sucking, thrusting his finger into her as she swayed her hips, chasing the friction.

When her wetness started to drip down his hand, he added a second finger, increasing the pressure on her clit. He had to hold her down with his left hand to keep her from moving too much; to keep his lips latched onto the part of her that he knew would give her what she needed.

When she came, holding her became almost impossible. Pulling his fingers out, he brought his right hand back to her hips, pinning her in place; holding her over his mouth as he sucked every last drop of pleasure out of her body. 

He kept licking and kissing her as she panted, feeling her legs shake on either side of his head as the last spasms rippled across her body. When she started to groan from overstimulation, he finally flipped them over, painfully aware of the throbbing issue inside his pants.

It felt like she weighed nothing when he lifted her up and laid her down on her back, giving her folds one last lick before he knelt between her legs.

“May I… Is it okay…”

In his defense, he at least had the presence of mind to ask her while he pulled his sweater over his head and started to tug his jeans down.

“Yeah,” she panted, hair splayed across the rug, her perfect face tinged orange by the crackling fire. Her sweater rode up her belly when she raised her arms and rested them above her head, ogling his erection. “Yeah, yeah, just…”

Ben only managed to get his pants down to his knees before he leaned down to kiss her. Bracing his weight on his right arm, he brought his left hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, positioning himself between her bent legs.

“You came so pretty for me,” he grunted against her lips, pressing his tip to her entrance. “Want me to come for you now? Fill you up with my cum?”

And Rey _whimpered_ – actually whimpered as she writhed beneath his body, trying to push herself down on his length.

“No,” he rasped, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Say it.” 

“Please, Ben. _Please_ , just fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, kissing her again as he finally flexed his hips.

They gasped in unison when he slid into her, thrusting slowly until he couldn’t go any further.

“You okay?”

“Fuck, you’re big,” she breathed, looping her arms around his shoulders. “Yeah, fine, it’s… fine. Good.”

“Good?”

“Great. Fuck, Ben, just – _Ah_!”

With the second thrust, he managed to go a little deeper, feeling her walls slowly stretch to accommodate him.

“Taking me so good,” he mumbled against her mouth, making her gasp with another slow thrust. “I knew you’d be good for me. I knew you’d be _perfect_.” 

Carding her fingers through his hair, Rey slid her right hand between their bodies, searching for her clit.

“Good girl. You gonna come for me again? Come around my cock?”

“Fuck, Ben,” she whispered, gasping each time he thrust into her. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Me too,” he answered, searching for her tongue as he finally buried himself inside her to the hilt.

Ben made a point of kissing her deeply as he picked up his pace, doing his best not to go too fast too soon. The thought of her being sore the next day did make some creature roar possessively in his chest, but he tried to ignore it, being as gentle as his self-control would allow him to be.

She adapted to his size fast enough, though. It wasn’t long before she felt tailor-made for his body - warm and pliant, taking his full length with long moans that became louder with each thrust. 

Ben knew the rug she was lying on was soft enough, but he still placed his hand between her head and the floor when he started to pound into her, causing her entire body to rock back and forth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cursed against his lips, panting as her fingers worked feverishly over her clit.

He muffled her moans with another deep kiss, pulling her head to his as his left hand travelled up her thigh. When he found her knee, he hooked his hand behind it and pushed her bent leg up until her thigh was pressed flush to her torso.

The new position allowed him to go deeper, and she whimpered when he started to fuck into her with short, quick snaps of his hips. When she threw her head back, Ben buried his face into her neck, grunting as warmth coiled up in his lower abdomen.

“Fuck, Rey. _Fuck_ ,” he rasped when her walls clenched violently around him. Digging his fingers into her thigh, he kept pushing through her spasms, his movements more uncoordinated with each moan that fell from her lips.

Rey gasped loudly for air as she came, nails digging into his scalp, convulsing around him harder than she had before.

Ben couldn’t hold back for much longer after that.

A few erratic thrusts into her throbbing walls were enough to make him crumble, and he came inside her with a feral snarl, nose buried under her jaw.

He could feel Rey’s heart beat on her throat as he kissed her skin, shaking in the afterglow of his orgasm. After a few moments, he finally collapsed on his side, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her limp body the second he hit the floor. She lay there panting for a while, face buried in his chest as he peppered her hair with kisses.

“Fuck, Ben,” she finally said, nuzzling his skin with a bright smile. “You have _one_ brain cell, don’t you?”

Ben huffed out a laugh into her hair, sighing as she draped a leg over his hip.

“That’s impossible,” he murmured, running his hand up and down her spine while he finally kicked his jeans off of his ankles. “I’d need at least two.”

“Nah. I think it’s just the one. Must get lonely, the poor thing.”

“Maybe you could keep it company.”

When Rey looked up at him, the flickering flames of the fireplace were dancing across her face, making her skin look golden.

“I’d like that,” she whispered, wetting her lips before she stretched up to press her mouth to his.

Not unlike a sunflower stretching towards the sun, he thought idly, smiling as he kissed her back.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I hope you had fun with this one! If you enjoyed this one-shot, maybe consider checking out my [other works](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartSabers/works). There may be something in there for you! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Love your faces <3


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